M.D.K.: “Can I get a beer please?”
The bar in Daytona Beach was now home to M.D.K. as he sits hunched over a bar stool by the barman. The blood on his forehead was now dried and the wound was clotted as it had been several hours since he had emerged from the sea in an absolute mystery. How he had got to be in this situation was still a mystery but all he knew was that his wallet was still with him and that meant he had freedom still. The money inside was now sodden, worthless paper but the cards were still usable. His clothes had also dried out in the warm sun yet he hardly looked clean as sand was covering various parts of his body. As the barman hands M.D.K. a beer he hands over a credit card and speaks once again in hushed tones.
M.D.K.: “Make it a forty dollar tab and keep the beers coming. Also could I get some quarters out of that as well please?”
Barman: “Sorry sir, we don’t give cash back here.”
M.D.K.: “It’s not cash back, it’s so I can make a phone call.”
Barman: “I am sor-“
M.D.K.: “Damn it I need just a quarter to make a phone call! You can tell I am hardly a hobo.”
In reality he couldn’t considering the state he was in but surely the barman could see he was not your typical hobo by the platinum credit card or the Ralph Lauren shirt. The barman dips into his own pocket.”
Barman: “The bar may not give change but I’ll always help a brother out.”
M.D.K. nods in gratitude as he walks over to the payphone and places a couple of coins in. A noise can be heard at the other end although we can only hear M.D.K.
M.D.K.: “Eddie? It’s Danny, ring me back on this number as I haven’t got any change.”
He replaces the receiver and within a few seconds it chimes loudly and M.D.K. answers it quickly. The screen splits at on the other end we can see a middle aged black man sitting on a purple chaise lounge and wearing a red velvet dressing gown. He is puffing on a large Cuban cigar and shoots a gold lined grin to the voice on the other end of the phone.
Eddie: “Danny mother ****ing Tenegra as I live and breathe. How are you doing my man and more to the point where are you? You have your match in LA in a couple of days and I haven’t heard from you. What is going on man?”
M.D.K.: “Eddie, .I can’t explain how but I’m in a bar on Daytona Beach. Don’t ask me the ins or the outs of how because I don’t know. I woke up on the beach and I am lost man. Can you come and pick me up or get Sally to?”
Eddie’s smile fades a little as he falls silent and M.D.K. face turns to that of concern.
Eddie: “Um Danny man, Sally won’t be picking you up as we don’t know where she is; remember?”
M.D.K.: “What do you mean we don’t know? I was talking to her after the press conference.”
Eddie: “Danny, that was almost a week ago. After the press conference everybody assumed that you and her had sloped off together. Why isn‘t Sally with you then?”
M.D.K.: “Eddie this isn’t funny, of course she’s not with me. I have a gash in my head the size of my hand and I stink of sea water and sand. What day is it?”
Eddie: “It’s Sunday man. The press conference was on Monday. I saw your first round match with that Harley guy and had to watch through webbed fingers as Cain crashed out. Since then I haven’t seen you in the flesh. What is going on?”
M.D.K. looks confused and worried as the camera focuses on him. The static noise starts again and the camera starts jumping and as quickly as before we are flashing back a few days. M.D.K. is with Sally again as they are walking back to their car; M.D.K.’s E-Type Jaguar is his pride and joy and the one proof that for all his hard years of graft that this is the one thing that has made it all worthwhile. As they go to get in, M.D.K. slaps his forehead and smiles in a stupid manner.
Sally: “What have you forgotten this time?”
M.D.K.: “My jacket, I can’t trust these people with my jacket.”
Sally: “Hurry up then because I want to get home and snuggle!”
M.D.K.: “Snuggling will come soon enough baby don’t you worry about that.”
He walks towards the back area as a figure clad in black stands with his back to the wall. As M.D.K. takes his jacket from the peg, he notices the man in black still smiling at him maliciously.
M.D.K.: “Can I help you?”
Man: “Oh no but soon you will, very soon in fact you will help me greatly.”
M.D.K.: “What do you mean? Do I know you?”
Man: “Again, you will do. We will know each other VERY well in due course. Good luck with Mr Douglas by the way.”
M.D.K.: “What do you know about me? Who the hell are you?”
There is a loud clatter behind M.D.K. and he turns to see that a pile of coat hangers has fallen to the floor behind him. He turns back and the man is gone. With a shake of his head M.D.K. walks back to his car where Sally was standing but now she isn’t there. M.D.K. mutters to himself.
M.D.K.: “She must be in the car.”
As he gets closer he can see that the engine is ticking over and his Pearl Jam album is playing but as he gets closer to the car he can see that Sally is nowhere to be found. He looks into the car and calls for her but resigned to her not hiding he stands up and rests on the roof of his car as he texts her on his mobile phone. As he does though we hear a loud thud and suddenly everything goes black… again…
Eddie: “Danny? Danny? Are you still there? Danny?”
We are back in the bar as M.D.K. continues to look confused. He shakes his head and mumbles into the receiver.
M.D.K.: “Yeah… sorry I am still here. What did you say?”
Eddie: “Stay right there Danny, I’ll be an hour tops but just lay off of the alcohol ok?”
M.D.K. takes another large mouthful of beer as he responds.
M.D.K.: “Sure thing just hurry up.”
He replaces the receiver and sits on the bar stool and gestures to the barman.
M.D.K.: “Two more beers please.”
As he sits hunched over the counter, the barman hands him his beer and M.D.K. nods in gratitude. As he begins to drink them his narration kicks in once again.
M.D.K.: “So I cruised through the first round did I? I really am now most probably the lowest seeded cretin in the Los Angeles grouping but does that phase me? Is it supposed to strike fear into me? The short answer is now and the long answer goes into great detail about it being a big challenge but really is it? I mean is it that big of a deal these seedings because from what I can remember there wasn’t exactly one man that captured my attention for any great length of time. Sure there was the Viking man but let’s be honest, watching him wrestle was like sex with a fat girl; great for novelty value but useless for anything long term or meaningful. The harsh truth is I honestly feel that even signing up for this company was a bad move from the outset because quite simply there isn’t anybody I feel is truly in my league. Call me conceited if you wish but it’s true. From generic, cocky no-marks to those that compare themselves to signs of the Zodiac, there is nothing I can honestly look at and say, “Yeah, that guy would kick my arse any day of the week.”
“These people aren’t fighters; I’d even wince at daring to call them entertainers because they all seem to be missing something. I mean what will they set me up with next round? The porn loving Viking or the generically bland Japanese Hida Yakamo. Whoever it is they are hardly setting the world alight are they? They are hardly capturing the hearts and minds of the masses like I have done every single day since I first ever signed up to the wrestling industry.”
“Maybe I am getting old for this or maybe I am just a cynical fool now but I won’t be losing sleep over this kind of thing. I have bigger fish to fry and whoever feels my wrath will be dealing with a man who is already bored of the competition and will willingly win the entire thing to save everybody else from an extra large portion of mediocre.”
The camera fades as M.D.K. downs another bottle of beer as the camera gently fades out.
???: “Danny?”
A black hand is placed on M.D.K.’s shoulder and as he turns he can see the face of his mentor and manager Eddie Simmons. He wordlessly turns and embraces him tightly and both turn to walk out of the bar and head to Eddie’s large 4 x 4. They sit in it silently as Eddie drives them out of the car park and down the freeway in total silence. Eddie turns to M.D.K. to break the ice.
Eddie: “So how are you feeling in yourself?”
M.D.K.: “I can’t complain really can I?I mean I’ve lost a week, I can’t remember my last match and my girlfriend is missing so how much better could it be? I mean do please ****ing tell me Eddie!”
Eddie: “Listen it is bad but you need to focus on the match ahead as well Dan.”
M.D.K.: “My match? Eddie you can go **** my match without lubricant because I am not wrestling, no way and no how.”
Eddie: “Sally or no Sally you need to wrestle man because if you ain’t hurting then you ain’t earning.”
M.D.K. goes to respond but thinks better of it. Eddie was right, the LA fights were a huge investment of time and money for M.D.K. and while he was on the way to breaking even after victory over Harley Douglas, he still had to earn victory in the second round before officially breaking even.
M.D.K.: “So what is next?”
Eddie: “Hida Yakamo.”
M.D.K.: “The Japanese guy? I remember him from the first round. The guy was pretty impressive from what I have seen from old footage of him. Was he decent in the first round?”
Eddie: “He cruised through just like you did. Can you even remember your match?”
M.D.K.: “It’s fuzzy and not really there.”
Eddie: “Like a Yakamo promo?”
M.D.K.: “Smooth rhyme there.”
Eddie: “I’m here to help.”
The journey continues until they reach the lobby parking of the hotel.
Eddie: “Well this is where I have booked you a room for the next few nights while you can get your **** together.”
M.D.K.: “Thank you Eddie.”
Eddie: “And I have sorted out a couple of personal gym sessions for you in the build-up to your match.”
M.D.K. lets out a deep sigh and rubs his eyes.
M.D.K.: “Eddie, tell me what would I do without you?”
Eddie: “Probably invest all your money into an illegal foxy boxing ring?”
M.D.K. and Eddie share a smile and they shake hands tightly. M.D.K. gets out of the passenger side and turns to Eddie.
Eddie: “I’ll catch up with you later on man take it easy.”
Eddie drives off and M.D.K. turns to dust some dried sand from his shirt. The doorman just glares at him as he walks towards the main doors. He offers the camera a sly grin as he focuses on it.
M.D.K.: “You see what amuses me most of all is despite all of my issues and all my gripes, I still have the focus to take on somebody like you Yakamo. You, for all your prestige and for all your grandeur, you are running the risk of being upset by lowly little me. I mean what have I done in my career? Who am I to be standing in the ring opposite you and what exactly gives me the right to have any chance of beating you one on one in our second round clash?”
“That is the glory of this tournament; if you haven’t been heard of by this miniscule clique then you aren’t considered a threat and that is what I am to all of you – nothing, a nuisance and a rank outsider. But that is my biggest advantage in reality; I am a dark horse and a malevolent force which nobody is banking on and the likes of me is what the likes of you fear Yakamo. You fear what you cannot understand, you loathe what you do not know and that is exactly what I am; the dark unknown and the uncharted territory that harbours a terrible beast. You Yakamo are no mystery to me, the predictable winning streaks, the oh so generic Japanese style and the poncey titles from the places that only TEAM people know of or care about.”
“I know about you but that doesn’t mean I respect or even care for your existence as you are the only hurdle between the third round and me and I am not the sort to let boys like you stop men like me from upsetting the apple cart again and putting a spanner in the works of the TEAM ideal when one of their brethren and one of their own wins this tournament and the closer I get to my goal, the more they sweat and the greater my chance of victory, the higher the obstacles they place in front of me and you are only stage two. You are nothing special and nothing I haven’t seen before. I wish you luck but all I can see is one great INFERIOR piece of **** standing in my way.”
He swaggers into the hotel as though he was looking a million dollars when in reality he was still looking like a well dressed tramp. The receptionist addresses him as the camera fades out.
